


A Tasteful Kill

by JustRavenclaw



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:03:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8397367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustRavenclaw/pseuds/JustRavenclaw
Summary: Sam, Dean and Cas had to take a detour the night of Halloween. Except that Cas was passed out, Dean was very drunk and there was a dead body in the trunk of the Impala.





	

Dean was shaving his beard on Halloween morning when he decided to build a costume around his remaining moustache. It was a choice between Freddie Mercury and Hitler.

"Cas," he called out from the bathroom.

"Yes?" Castiel answered from the kitchen, gobbling a spoonful of cereal after.

"Freddie Mercury or Hitler?" Dean asked, peeping his head out of the bathroom. Their apartment was so small one could practically always see the other no matter where he was positioned.

"I don't think Charlie will appreciate Hitler, Dean," Cas shook his head. "But who is Freddie Mercury?"

"I am not entitled to answer this ignorant question."

Castiel had such a limited amount of musical knowledge, he was grateful Dean always saw past it in their relationship. He washed his bowl and Dean's half-eaten plate of eggs then looked over his shoulder to watch Dean walk out of the bathroom with a caterpillar-like moustache resting over his lips. He stood next to Castiel and rested his arm over his shoulder.

"Freddie Mercury once said, ' _I dress to kill, but tastefully.'_ I feel like that is the strategy I am going for this Halloween," Dean explained.

"I still don't know who that is, Dean." Cas sighed.

"It's too late now, man." Castiel smiled. Dean had such a hard time muttering words of affection. "But," Dean continued, "I will tell you that he has a fabulous and flamboyant style. So dress me up, Cas."

It was routine. On any special occasion, Castiel always picked out Dean's clothes. Special occasions included B-list bands visiting Dean's studio (never A-list ones though, because they simply never did). Tonight's special occasion was different, however. Charlie was hosting her annual Halloween party and Dean would have done anything to make her happy considering how many times she stood by his side, so naturally Cas loved her too.

Dean showed Cas pictures of Freddie Mercury. After a few minutes, he searched Dean's closet for a costume, which proved hard. If Freddie Mercury's closet is anything, it's colourful and silky, which is everything Dean's isn't. He settled on a pair of black leather pants Sam bought Dean as a joke along with a red button-up that was actually Castiel's, and Dean's combat boots. He undressed Dean, then dressed him. He tied the boots then tucked the button-up into the pants and finally kissed Dean.

"Are you sure you have to work today?" Castiel asked softly.

"Cas," Dean placed a hand on his cheek. "Just a few hours. I'll see you tonight. Pick a nice costume. One that everyone will understand."

Dean was obviously referring to last year's incident. Castiel was dressed up as a character from an obscure Japanese movie. Not only was no one able to decipher the costume, barely anyone noticed that Cas actually had a costume on. Dean never let him live it down.

Dean drove to the studio. He would usually have over three bands come in to record per day, except no one wanted to record on Halloween. Utopia, a rising and ironically cynical rock band, said they would come in if he charged them lower prices and he agreed. They weren't coming in for two more hours so Dean sat down and started mixing some sounds.

He woke up, (or what seemed like it, he didn't remember falling asleep or even being tired), when he felt a tap on his shoulder. The lead singer of Utopia briefed Dean on the levels, timings, and other technical issues Dean was well used to by now.

"Cool costume, by the way," the evidently stoned drummer, Ash, commented as he was leaving. Dean smiled to himself then thanked him, though he was sure the drummer forgot he even spoke to him.

Dean worked on finances till it was time for the party. He checked his phone as he left the studio, confused when he saw three missed calls from Sam and two texts asking for his whereabouts. Dean checked the side of his phone. It was on loud, but it never rang. He shook it off, considering he was never one to trust technology anyway. That was why a lot of artists still went to Dean's studio; the authenticity of the process of recording music. Nothing was too fancy or innovative. The recording process was just about the artist and his or her instruments, and that's what Dean felt produced the best quality music.

He drove back to the house and called Castiel down. A few minutes later, he walked out of the building and it took Dean a few seconds to register his outfit. A large second hand purple suit, over a white shirt with one of Cas' silk ties and a brown top hat, which Dean wondered where on earth Cas whooped it out from.

"Willy Wonka! Fucking genius," Dean said with a grin as Cas got in the car. Castiel felt proud of himself as Dean studied the outfit. Dean ran his fingers along Cas' hat then he took a deep breath and gazed into his eyes.

"I love you, Cas, you know that?" Dean said after a few moments.

"So you've made it clear." Castiel smiled challengingly and Dean rolled his eyes then drove off to Charlie's.

"Dean, Castiel, ugh, you guys look so adorable. Let me guess, oh my god. Cas, you certainly outdid last year. Ten points for effort, six for execution. Come in, Willy Wonka!" Charlie spoke excitedly as soon as she saw Dean and Cas at the doorstep. She was dressed as Gamora from Guardians of the Galaxy. They could both tell she'd either had too much candy or too much alcohol, or worse, too much of both. "Dean," she sighed. "I get that your outfit is a mirror of your pretentious music taste and I don't care enough to guess who it is. I still love you though. Not love you love you, cause that's like super awkward and impossible and you're with Cas and I totally ship you guys with all my heart. Sam!"

Dean never felt more relieved to see his brother.

"Cowboy, how original," Charlie remarked with her signature sarcastic smile.

"Nice to see you too, Charlie," Sam laughed and hugged her. She hugged him back then ran off to scrutinise someone else.

"Sammy," Dean called out then hugged his brother.

"Hey, man, I called you earlier," Sam hugged back and continued, "where were you?"

"Work, sorry I didn't hear my phone," Dean said. "Needed something?"

"Just a ride, don't worry about it. Hey, Cas," Sam nodded at Castiel who smiled back in acknowledgement.

"Well, I'm gonna go get shit faced," Dean announced then walked over to the bar.

"Dean, you're driving us back home," Cas reminded him.

"Sam can do that, he can sleep over for the night," Dean said as he popped open a bear.

"We barely fit in the apartment as it is," Cas sighed.

"Cas, loosen up a little," Dean poked his shoulder, "we'll figure it out, okay? Have a drink, dance with me." Dean took Castiel's hands as he started to sing along to Jailhouse Rock. Cas slowly smiled and started dancing along. They danced together, even when the dubstep songs Dean despised came on. They danced with Sam and with Jo, then with Charlie, then with too many people none of them cared about. Dean lurched at Cas, pushing him against the wall and started kissing him hungrily. Cas felt the brush of Dean's moustache against his upper lip, making him smile giddily. Just when Dean unbuttoned the top button of Castiel's shirt, they heard someone clear their throat nearby. They must have been too close, considering they could hear the small sound over the music.

"Castiel," Charlie called out.

Dean pulled away and looked at Charlie, who was standing next to a man that weirdly reminded him of a penguin. An ugly penguin that is. Dean wasn't sure if this was the alcohol talking but he felt uncomfortable with the man's gaze upon him and Castiel.

"This is Dr. Zachariah, a family friend. He owns a cardiological clinic, and was looking for an assistant. I instantly thought of you, of course."

Castiel smiled and blushed in a mixture of gratitude and shame. Gratitude because Charlie went to such far extents and shame because everyone else knew the burden he put on Dean being out of job.

"I'll leave you two to discuss it. Dean, want to come with me?"

"No, I'll stay." Something about the man was unsettling to Dean. There was a menacing look to his eyes.

"Castiel, I hear a lot about you from Charlie. I hope I'm putting my faith in the right person," Zachariah said sceptically as he glanced at Dean then back at Cas. "Why don't you tell me more about your qualifications?"

Dean blinked his eyes open to a white wall. The first thing that hit him was how cold it was. He took a step back and he heard splashing sound. He looked at his feet then fell back against the other wall behind him. It couldn't be real, he thought. It doesn't make sense. The last thing he remembered was Zachariah and Castiel speaking, and now the former lay dead on Charlie's bathroom floor, swimming in a pool of his own blood. Dean noticed the blade in his hand and instantly dropped it. He regained his posture and started breathing rapidly.

He found his phone in his pocket. He was about to dial Castiel's number, but instead called Sam.

"Dean, where the fuck are you? Castiel's passed the fuck out from drinking too much and you just disappeared."

"Come to Charlie's bathroom, Sam, now," Dean commanded between pants.

"What? Is this some kind of joke?"

"Now, Sam, which part of now don't you understand?!"

"Jesus, alright, why don't you get off your high horse first." Sam hung up and soon stepped into the bathroom. Dean worried it would be another party attendee, assuming that the party was still going on, and felt relieved when he saw his brother's familiar face. All the colour in Sam's face, however, drowned at the sight.

"Dean," was all he managed to say. It was a horrific scene. Blood stained the white floors and blue mats. It just kept gushing out of the dead man's neck. Dean held up the blade, one of the types Charlie collected for display, that was tainted with the same blood.

"I don't know how it happened, Sammy, I just found myself here. My head's been fucked up all day long and now I'm here and I don't know how the fuck this happened, Sammy, I killed him and I don't even remember it happening!" Dean's voice rose by the word and Sam had to cover his mouth by the end to avoid attention. He locked the door behind them and paced the bathroom.

Sam trusted Dean. But he didn't make sense. In fact, none of this made sense. There was no explanation for Dean killing someone he didn't even know, but there was also no explanation for committing murder and not remembering it. Dean was staring at the blade, heart at his throat, breathing audibly.

"We can't stay here forever, Dean," Sam said stupidly, waiting for Dean's snarky response which didn't came. "We can sneak him out the window. Charlie's house isn't too high."

"Sneak him?" Dean asked hastily.

"More of throwing him out the window, because nothing more terrible could happen to him anyway, than sneaking, but you get what I mean."

Dean quietly obliged then reminded Sam about the blood in Charlie's bathroom. Sam said he'll deal with it and instructed Dean to put the body in the trunk and wait in the car, something Sam never intended to say nor Dean intended to hear.

Sam unlocked the bathroom door. The party was over and Charlie was passed out. He used all the detergents and cleaning equipment in her house to get rid of the blood. He took the blue mats with him as he sneaked out the house and threw it in the trunk as well, reminding himself to burn them later.

Cas snored softly in the back as Sam drove to the woods. They stopped to get Dean coffee on the way in an attempt to sober him up, to no avail. He drank too much and both him and Sam worried that the alcohol drove him to murder, but no one said anything. Instead they just drove in silence until Dean broke it.

"Such an interesting Halloween we're having," he pointed out, speech slightly slurred.

Sam just looked at him then turned his head back to the road. There was just some sort of aura about a dead body in the trunk of your car. As if they practiced it, the two brothers broke out laughing in unison. They laughed more as they neared the dark woods, where the trees got tighter and more twisted. Dean's laughter slowly faded into tears as he thought of the man he loved asleep behind him, safe from the worries of the world.

Dean just took away Castiel's chance of getting a job he actually loved. Castiel could work as a waiter, he could mop hospital floors for the minimum wage but Dean didn't let him. He knew Cas was never happy settling for less, and even if it meant they were tight on money, he wouldn't let him work a humiliating job.

His tears streamed beyond control when the guilt started settling in, and even more so, the confusion of the entire situation. How can he forget taking someone's life away? Dean never thought the day he'd have to kill someone, he wouldn't even remember it. Moreover, he didn't think it would be someone he didn't know. Maybe that's how it happened to his father. Maybe John didn't know he was killing people, and somehow that got passed onto Dean. Dean worked so hard not to fall for his father's mistakes and all his work bit him in the ass that night.

Sam grabbed the shovels he pick pocketed from Charlie's backyard and started digging. Dean just held the shovel and stared at the small hole Sam had already dug up. It would have to be a lot deeper. It was a man's grave. A man who had a family and friends. A man Dean killed.

"Dean," Sam snapped him back to reality.

Dean started working with his own shovel, repressing his thoughts. They were around halfway done until someone cleared their throat behind them. Dean wished the dead man had come to life, and he was never more disappointed in seeing Cas than that moment.

"What is this?" he asked, walking closer.

"Dean, care to explain?" Sam quizzed him. Dean would have been angry at Sam if he hadn't been his rock that night. Sam didn't ask questions, nor did he panic. Dean's safety was his priority.

Dean briefed Cas on what he remembered and how they ended up in the woods digging a grave in the dead of night.

"Dr. Zachariah?" was all Cas managed out.

"I'm so sorry, Cas, I don't know how it happened. My head's been so fucked up all day," Dean's speech was slurred, partially because of the alcohol and partially because of the overwhelming guilt. He felt guilty for hurting Castiel over killing a man and not remembering it, and that said enough.

Castiel didn't speak. He grabbed the last shovel and started working in silence. His head was pounding, not just with hangover, but worry. Worry for Dean, worry for Sam and worry for himself and his future. He finally got a chance at pursuing the job of his dreams, and it was stolen away from him a few hours later. By the person he loved, nevertheless.

Castiel couldn't watch when they took the body out of the trunk. He threw up on the side while Sam and Dean finished the deed.

Sam drove them back home by dawn. He didn't stay the night as planned, but he promised Dean he would clean the impala up and have it back the next day. Castiel was surprised at the lack of argument Dean put up.

After getting rid of their clothes, Dean and Cas sat at opposite ends of the bed, backs to each other.

"Hey, Cas, wanna hear a story?" Dean asked.

"Go ahead," Castiel intended to state, but it sounded rather like a question.

"Once upon a Halloween night, Freddie Mercury, a cowboy and Willy Wonka got together to cover up a murder. It was weird as shit," Dean spoke with a voice raspier and lower than usual. Castiel laughed in spite of himself.

* * *

This Halloween marks the second year Dean committed murder. He's sitting at his studio, just like he does every day since the incident. He doesn't go out much anymore, or mingle, in fear of reliving the events one more time. He calls Castiel, who should be leaving for work now.

"Hey, Cas," Dean says with a smile as he scribbles in the margins of his notebook.

"Hi, Dean. You okay?" Cas asks carefully, and Dean understands why he's walking on eggshells. Dean landed himself in the ER last Halloween after drinking himself to oblivion. While Dean would usually be ashamed of such action, the events landed Castiel his job as a nurse after the doctor was impressed with the procedures he took to take care of Dean.

"I'm fine, Cas. Don't worry. Take care today, yeah?"

"I will. I wanted to ask you–"

"Hold on," Dean says. "Looks like the band's here, I'll deal with them and call you back in a bit, okay?"

"Okay, I love you." Dean hates that Castiel says it like it's a reminder. He hates that Castiel knows his insecurities and tries too hard to reassure him. Yet in all honesty, Dean couldn't imagine his life would be like without the constant reassurance.

"I love you, too," Dean says then hangs up.

Utopia, the band from two years ago is supposed to be coming back to Dean's studio. Dean hasn't heard them, or from them, since that day. While Dean expected a lead singer, guitarist, bassist and drummer, only Ash the drummer walks in.

"Hello, Dean," he announces in his thick southern accent.

"Uhm, hi?" Dean raises an eyebrow and stands up slowly.

"Looks like we meet on Halloween again," Ash speaks softly.

"Right. Where's the rest of your band?"

"You can say we... Dismantled."

"Why're you here then?" Dean presses.

"To tell you the truth, of course." Ash fixes his jacket and shakes his head, his long brown hair falling back into place.

"What truth? Dude, you're freaking me out."

Ash takes a seat at Dean's desk. Dean is about to kick his ass out when Ash starts speaking.

"The truth about halloween night, two years ago."

Dean's heart sank.

"You have nothing to worry about, Dean. Zachariah was a sick and twisted man that had to be dealt with and you were merely the... Vessel of the mission," Ash confesses to Dean, who could hear the blood pump in his ears and the bile rise to his throat.

"What do you mean? How did you do it?"

"Call it inception, call it hypnosis, subliminal messages. Call it whatever you may. I drilled the message into your brain for over a year. In every TV show you watched, in every song you listened to, in every paper you read. Tiny little messages warning you about Zachariah. And that night my 'band'," he air quotes, "came to record, you were right on edge. You were ready. I don't disclose my ways but I told you to do it that night. I sent Zachariah your way and bam! Pop goes the weasel."

It is weird, but Dean feels relief over anger or hatred. He isn't turning into his father. He isn't submitting into the fear that haunted him his entire life.

"Why did you choose me for your sick game?" Dean demands with a snarl, getting closer to his desk.

"We all think about death, and murder. But not all of us can do it, Dean," Ash says with a smirk Dean feels like smacking it right off his face. "You've got just enough demons within you to commit the crime," he continued.

Dean makes a decision and doesn't go over it again. It would make it so much harder.

"Damn right I do, you son of a bitch," he pulls out the knife in his drawer (the only handy thing his dad ever taught him) and digs it in Ash's stomach. Dean watched his dad use this technique so many times it, he knows just where to stab.

A few moments later he picks up his phone and dials Sam's number.


End file.
